


Never Too Late

by WritingintheCandlelight



Category: Hit the Floor (TV)
Genre: Angst, Bisexuality, Canon Divergence, Coming Out, Episode Related, Episode: s03e04 Good D, Friendship, Jealousy, M/M, Possessive Behavior, Protective!Zero
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-22
Updated: 2016-03-26
Packaged: 2018-05-28 10:58:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6326311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WritingintheCandlelight/pseuds/WritingintheCandlelight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lucas seemed completely unaware of the sudden tension emanating from both Zero and Jude at the interruption. Instead the agent reached out with a sure hand to grasp Jude’s chin and press their lips together. It was chaste, barely even constituting as a kiss, but it may as well have been a bullet to the heart.</p><p>(Or, Zero waited just a little too long to acknowledge what he wanted and now has to watch Jude with someone else)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Bullet to the Heart

**Author's Note:**

> I know that there are a limited amount of episodes each season, so I understand why this scenario was not dragged out in the show—but I really wanted to see it happen. I expect this to be no more than four or five chapters long, but we’ll see. Oh, and this has not been beta read, so all mistakes are mine.

People in the stands were still cheering now that the game was over, voices overlapping into ambient noise over the reporters flooding their way down onto the court in hopes of landing an interview with one of the star players of the night while others wanted to congratulate the team on yet another victory. It was always a great feeling to win, still riding off of the lingering remnants of adrenaline and triumph, a high so natural and satisfying that it was hard to come down from it.

Zero was immersed in the thick of it all, the euphoria of the success putting bold and unwise ideas in his head the second a familiar brunet joined everyone on the floor. He had noticed the man in the audience earlier, watching the game intently and cheering along with everyone when a play was run successfully. His presence had spurred Zero on even more, making him throw everything he had into it, because it felt like there was progress between them.

This was the first game that Jude Kinkade attended in a long time. He may have been the Executive Vice President of Business Operations now, though that hardly equated a mandatory presence at the games. Jude had avoided coming to as many as possible since taking the position. The few times he had been present, Lionel Davenport had obviously been the instigator, and Jude spent nearly the whole time on his phone.

Something had changed though.

Zero was almost certain about that. He recalled how their last conversation ended, with a desperate, reluctant declaration of love that had been reciprocated, but it had not been enough at the time. Zero could not be enough, and for the first time in a long time, he thought he lived up to the name. But for Jude to be present now, engaged in the game and looking more relaxed than he had since that all too brief encounter in the coat closet, something had to be different.

Turning away from the nameless faces in the crowd, Zero concentrated on the one person in the world who meant anything to him. He approached slowly, trying to look casual about it, anticipation and elation churning in his stomach at the thought that something might have improved since their last encounter. He held onto that notion, clinging to it with hope that surprised him, but it felt good to acknowledge it.

Whoever would have thought that Zero would go from despising even the idea of a healthy, exclusive relationship, to wanting one so desperately, let alone one with a man? He would have laughed incredulously at the mere suggestion a few short months ago. Now it was all Zero could think of. He wanted it all to be like it was months ago and ten times more. He wanted someone to go out on actual dates with, to lavish with expensive gifts just because he could, to have someone who cheered him on at games. He wanted someone to come home to.

That someone was Jude. No substitutions or exceptions accepted. That man could get under his skin like no other, and Zero had been with plenty of men and women before, never once having the urge to take the relationship beyond carnal indulgence. It had been sex or business with no feelings attached and that was the way he liked it. He dropped anyone who got too clingy and never looked back.

Jude had been different from the start.

The man had been the first genuine friend Zero had since adolescence. He had proven time and time again that he was Team Zero, had bent over backwards trying to repair a damaged reputation, and had become a trusted confidant. Zero had tried to show appreciation the only way he knew how. He began subtly paying for things, trying to improve the way Jude lived—luxury items that had been denied in the past, such as expensive grooming products, suits and ties, and fancy meals at high end restaurants. He even went to the agency and demanded Jude be permanently appointed as his agent.

No one else had ever been subjected to Zero persistently trying to pamper them. He had actually enjoyed spending the money too, and by the time Zero had drove up in a dark, shiny, ostentatious car, Jude had simply accepted it as something he did and didn’t even fight him anymore. Jude probably never even realized, once they had acknowledged and acted on their mutual attraction, just how right he was in saying that he hadn’t been going off of nothing.

Jude caught sight of the approach and shifted nervously. “I can’t talk now,” he said, voice slightly rushed, head turning as if to avoid looking at him. “I’m meeting someone.”

The dismissal should have stung, but Zero was done dancing around this thing between them. He was going to give Jude what he wanted, what they both wanted, because Zero was tired of denying himself that. He wanted Jude back and if that meant having a public relationship with a man that could potentially derail his career then so be it. He could handle the consequences; he _would_ handle the consequences.

Zero was just about to speak up when the tail end of what Jude said registered. His mouth parted slightly and he blinked, trying to process the words, but it was difficult. His eyes then landed on Lionel, standing not too far away, waylaid by a reporter, and tried to rationalize that Jude was probably just talking about her. His theory was shattered when someone interrupted them.

It was Lucas, the agent that had replaced Jude a few months ago, but it was not Zero the man was after. “Jude,” Lucas said brightly, stepping up beside them. “There you are.”

Lucas seemed completely unaware of the sudden tension emanating from both Zero and Jude at the interruption. Instead the agent reached out with a sure hand to grasp Jude’s chin and press their lips together. It was chaste, barely even constituting as a kiss, but it may as well have been a bullet to the heart.

Zero could only watch the kiss, the exultation from the win suddenly turning to lead in his stomach. He was crashing down hard from the high, plummeting to the ground with nothing to stop him, blood rushing through his ears and making it impossible to hear. He dimly registered the way Jude pulled back suddenly, eyes darting around as if to make sure no one saw, looking so scared and unsure by the public display of affection.

“Relax, babe,” Lucas said, turning to wrap one arm around his waist, pressing their sides together intimately. “No one cares.”

The words almost hurt as much as witnessing the actual kiss had, because Zero knew it was true in that instance—no one around them really even reacted to it, the kiss going largely unnoticed or simply ignored. The only one who did react was that one blond dancer who had the sex tape scandal—and later married another Devil Girl, if memory served—and even then all she did was wolf whistle. Lucas was right, but he was also wrong, because someone did care.

Zero cared. He cared a lot.

Jude met his eyes uncertainly, remorse and something else lurking in those light green eyes. He seemed conflicted, but was clearly waiting for a reaction.

“Wow,” Zero released a shaky breath disguised as a laugh. “When did this happen?” he asked, torn between actually wanting to know the question and walking away so no one could see just how affected he was.

Jude seemed to try and speak though no words came out.

“It was a long time coming,” Lucas replied easily, looking entirely too pleased with himself, barely sparing a glance to Jude. “We tried once before, but it didn’t quite work out because _someone_ —” he drawled and rolled his eyes slightly “—was still hung up on an ex and never gave me a fair shot until now.”

Zero only barely managed to contain the urge to sneer at the condescending words. He instantly recognized the fact that Lucas was actually referring to him. He was the _ex_. He gnashed his teeth together and tried to smile. He knew Lucas and Jude had been out together on more than one occasion—one of which he even interrupted—but those had been business meetings. He never even considered they might try for something more.

It was hardly a surprise that Lucas had been interested. Jude was a very attractive man, tall and muscular, but more lithe than bulky. He had soft skin and lips and nice, chiseled features that were just soft enough. He was gorgeous. Any sane person with a healthy sex drive would be enticed by Jude—the fact that Jude had accepted it was a surprise though.

Zero knew for a fact that up until their relationship moved beyond friendship, Jude had never been with a man and it had been the first time. Zero had been the first. It was a fact that Jude attempted to hide during the first time they had sex together, but Zero had known it even if he never said anything. He had liked it, feeling almost a possessive pride in knowing that Jude had never been intimate in that way with someone else.

The way Lucas was touching Jude now said it was no longer true.

“Really,” he said lightly, lips pressed together in a slight smile. “Congratulations.”

Lucas grinned. “Thanks. Congrats to you too, man! Another one won.”

Jude cleared his throat. “I need to speak to Lionel.”

“Now?” Lucas asked, dark eyebrows rising. “What about our date?”

“I…” Jude swallowed, pulling away awkwardly. “It should just take a minute.”

Zero forced himself not to watch the retreat, instead focusing on Lucas—who eyed Jude the entire way across the court with appreciative eyes. His hands balled into fists so hard that he felt the sting of his nails digging into the fleshy part of his palms. He narrowed his eyes on Lucas and resisted the urge to punch that smirk right off his face.

“Damn,” Lucas groaned, turning away from the sight and shaking his head. “The body hiding beneath those suits…”

Zero had intimate knowledge of what was beneath those suits. “Oh yeah?” he asked, the wound still too fresh not to be twisted a bit.

Lucas nodded. “Do you know how long I’ve been dying to hit that? I waited almost a year to nail him.”

Zero felt strangely satisfied by that knowledge. Even as the words confirmed his suspicions that Jude had sex with Lucas, it was comforting to know that the asshole had to work for it; in contrast, Zero and Jude barely managed to keep their hands off one another for a week after the initial kiss that redefined their relationship.

“It was worth the wait too,” Lucas continued. “I could have done without the insecurities and emotional baggage. Oscar Kinkade did a number on the guy, but…” He shrugged slightly and glanced back over at Jude, oblivious to the mounting anger gathering right in front of his face. “I can put up with it if it means I get another chance at that ass.”

The words were nothing Zero had not said before himself. He had definitely said that and worse in the past about the people he slept with. It made disgust churn in his stomach to think he was anything like Lucas. Zero managed to maintain his composure though, mouth pressed together in a thin line, reining back the urge to punch Lucas in the mouth for the way he spoke about Jude—like he was some kind of score.

“You should probably get back to your date,” Zero advised reluctantly, unsure he continue talking to the man without doing something he would regret. He couldn't resist asked though. “Planning on doing anything special?”

Lucas shrugged. “Not really. Jude is pretty easily pleased,” he said carelessly. “I think we will probably just go for a walk down the beach and get some take out for dinner.”

There was something sad about just how simple and true it was. Jude was so used to disappointment that almost any small thing pleased him. He might have been pushing for a normal relationship, but it was less about wanting to be normal as it was wanting to be accepted. He wanted to be acknowledged, for someone to not be ashamed of him, because Oscar had done everything possible to make Jude feel unwanted. A simple walk down the beach, even at night with no one else around, would probably be enough to elicit that awed smile that Zero enjoyed provoking so much.

Zero was unable to stop the tick in his jaw now, because while Jude would probably be content with something so unassuming he deserved so much better. “Hey… I’m in a good mood right now,” he said, lying through his teeth. “Why don’t the two of you go somewhere nice tonight on me? Go crazy and even rent a limousine or something…”

Lucas stared in surprise. “Really? I mean… I appreciate the offer and all, but like I told you, Jude is pretty easy to please.”

Zero glanced away, catching sight of a reporter headed this way. Punching Lucas in front of the press would be bad publicity. It would also probably something Jude would disapprove of, considering just how often Jude used to tell him to bench his temper, let alone if he happened to punch the man he was seeing. He exhaled and shook his head, waving the woman and her crew over, a placid smile already in place.

 “Yeah,” Zero nodded, slapping him on the shoulder with perhaps just a tad too much force. “I’m positive. You have full access to my credit cards already, so go ahead and treat him to a good night out.”

Lucas winced a bit and rubbed his tender arm, but shook his head with a wide smile of gratitude. “If you insist,” he said. “Thanks man!”

Zero allowed the calm exterior to fade away for a brief moment once the man moved around him and disappeared into the crowd. He was upset and wrung out, but also pissed the hell off. He needed to unwind and think about a few things. He might not be in a mood to celebrate anymore, but finding a small corner in the Playground and having a few drinks to take the edge off sounded like a good idea.

“Zero! Zero!” The reporter came up, microphone in hand, an eager expression on her face. “Congratulations on another victory! According to our projections, the Devils seem to be well on their way on winning another championship this season—that could mean _three_ rings for you. How do you feel after such a successful game?”

Zero forced an easy smile on his face and spread his arms out in a wide arc. “I can honestly say that I have never felt like this before.”

Maybe more than just a few drinks were in order.


	2. Love is a Painful Emotion

The parking garage for the arena was still full to its capacity when Zero deposited his gym bag into the trunk of his car. The remaining rows of vehicles were all just as expensive and grandiose as his own, the owners probably already upstairs in the exclusive Devils Playground for the after party. It was a known fact that the majority of the team went there after games, either to celebrate a victory or lament a defeat, and the party tonight was probably in full swing by now.

Zero contemplated just going home instead of attending. He always limited the alcohol intake based on his emotional state—a useful trick after watching his foster father drink himself nearly to death. He was definitely not in the right head space to get plastered tonight; he also had no real desire to be around people. The desire to avoid going home to an empty apartment was just as strong though, especially now because it only served as a reminder of being close to remedying that situation… except someone else got there first.

He really wanted a damn drink now.

There was a long line of anxious people leading up to the entrance of the club. It was mostly reporters hoping that someone would take pity on them and either offer admittance or a few words, though there were a few of the elite society as well, such as actors, musicians, and business executives. They made their way to the doors of the club, each one dressed in their finest party attire, slowly trickling inside once their names were verified on the list while the rest waited restlessly or were turned away at the door.

Bypassing this line entirely, Zero approached the entrance reserved for the other players on the team, as well as the dancers and other important employees of the Devils Nation. A slow beat of a slightly muffled song crept out into the hallway, growing louder as the large security man guarding the door opened it without prompting allowing Zero through without hesitation. It was already full of activity inside the club, a handful of people dancing while most were of the team gathered around the tables or seated on the comfortable couches to discuss the game.

It was a celebration that would make most people envious, people all throughout the club sipping at their beverages and enjoying the after feeling of the latest win—even though it had been a close game—but Zero walked resolutely toward the main bar. His hands were buried deep in the pockets of his expensive jeans, head slightly downcast to avoid looking at anyone in case they actually wanted to interact with him. He was on speaking terms with maybe a good five people in the entire room, at odds with at least twice that, so it was doubtful that many people would disturb him. He had no friends in the locker room after all.

Zero managed to make it to a barstool without incident and sat down. He took great care in choosing a location with the least amount of people present, not really wanting to test fate; he imagined the way his mouth twisted into an irate scowl the second he was seated would dissuade anyone who thought about it, and if not that, the cool antagonism lurking in his eyes certainly would. He took a moment to seriously consider just how intoxicated he wanted to get and just how fast he wanted to get there.

On any normal day Zero would have preferred to take his time and sip on a couple of microbrews or whatever was being served around the room at the time, let the alcohol build up slowly in his system over time for a nice buzz. He decided against it in this instance, because that always left him just sober enough to have a clear head; he may have wanted to think earlier, but Lucas and his smarmy face were all he could focus on.

 _Shots it is,_ Zero decided eventually. It would take a good ten to twenty minutes for the alcohol to absorb into his bloodstream, maybe less since he had not eaten dinner yet, and so drinking shots was the surefire way to metabolize it all faster. He went straight for the darker liquors with high proofs and savored the harsh burn as it went down his throat, turning the empty glass over and setting it down on the counter. He waited a few minutes before gesturing for another, the alcohol slow to take effect, but Zero could already feel the beginnings of a pleasant warmth spreading throughout his muscles by the third shot.

Zero felt some of the built up tension release then, slowly seeping out of him as the music and chatter continued on in the background. His thoughts became just a bit hazy, enough that it was easy to push Lucas far out of his mind, even if someone else refused to be forgotten. He took no notice of the brunette woman who suddenly perched near his left, her legs crossed toward him as he attempted to flag down the busy bartender for another one. He let out an irritated sigh when the attempt proved unsuccessful, rolling up his sleeves in an effort to distract himself from just how badly he wanted to forget this night ever even happened.

… To forget everything and anything associated with Jude.

The fact that a certain coat closet happened to be just down the hall only made matters worse, because that room served as a reminder of simultaneously one of the best and one of the worst nights of he had experienced in a long time. Zero could remember every single detail of that night with vivid clarity. He could see it all play out like a dream inside his head even now, the way he had caught sight of Jude sitting at the bar—only a few seats down from where Zero sat now actually—the dejected tilt of his shoulders speaking volumes.

It had been concern that drove Zero to approach and offer support any way he could. He had listened, a proud feeling manifesting at the fact Jude had stood up for himself and said no to Oscar, silently reeling in the notion that anyone could consider Jude an afterthought. It had been so easy to tell Jude that he thought of him first all the time. He tried to play it off like a line, not certain just how welcome the sentiment would be, but it had been the truth. His words had incited a slight shift in Jude then.

Zero teased a finger over the rim of the cool empty shot glass, recalling the way Jude had looked at him, eyes darkening with rekindled interest. The words had been delivered softly which took away some of the bite, the admittance that Zero made Jude feel normal—that they were both screwed up I their own way and gave each other that normalcy they both secretly craved—had soothed the sting. Things had progressed rather rapidly after that point.

Jude had nibbled down on his lower lip in a way they both knew drove Zero crazy. He had been surprised that Jude agreed when he jerked his head, walking away from the bar slowly and trying to find a secluded space for an intimate reunion. He never thought it would progress beyond kissing at that point, but the tension and desire between them both had been so tangible that by the time they made it into the isolated closet it had been unbearable. The way Jude had stared for those brief seconds—the uncertainty—until he stepped forward and took possession of Zero’s mouth like he had never stopped, as if he had been unable to keep himself from denying his own desire after so long apart.

It had been so satisfying, the culmination of unresolved feelings and months of yearning for one another, and their hands made quick work of the buttons of their shirts. He had gotten lost in the moment, feeling complete and contented to have Jude back in his arms—letting Zero touch him, kiss him… hold him. They had made a mess of the closet, their clothes gathering on the floor with the coats and shawls that had been in their way as they struggled with one another, each trying to take control and release their pent up frustration. He could have spent all night or longer like that.

Zero must have been a little too lost in the memory, eyes having fallen shut at some point, because they snapped open suddenly when he felt a perfectly manicured hand close over his forearm. He blinked slowly and felt his minuscule patience falter. He reached up to capture the offending hand, which had already begun to trace the veins on the vulnerable side of his arm, and tried to hold onto his precarious temper. It took every ounce of control not to be rough as he removed it.

“Not interested,” he told the woman gruffly, not even sparing her a glance.

Perhaps maybe after a few more shots Zero would consider going on the prowl for some pleasurable company, something to soothe the lonely ache inside of him—and maybe even to show Jude that he was not the only one who could move on. Zero could have almost anyone he wanted. He could pick any random guy or girl from the crowd and spend the night with them. He might do just that once he had enough to drink, but until then Zero had no interest in any kind of hook up. He was still entirely too sober to seduce anyone or be seduced.

Unfortunately enough the woman was persistent and not easily deterred by the dismissal. He could smell the overwhelming scent of her designer perfume, pleasant enough under normal circumstances even if it made his stomach churn now, as she pressed her body against his side. “Are you sure?” she asked, voice like honey: slow and suggestive, sticky sweet. “I can think of a ways to change your mind…” She emphasized her point by placing her hand on him again, this time high on his thigh and dangerously close to a certain part of his anatomy.

Zero finally turned to face her then, mouth pressed together in a fine line. He flicked his eyes over her form and had to admit that she was a very attractive woman. She had a decent figure, dark and thick caramel hair, and large hazel eyes accentuated by eyeliner and artificial lashes. She was probably the kind of woman who usually got her way. He considered it for a long moment, even in spite of his earlier disinterest, because she seemed capable of handling herself. He always did admire strong women.

It was something that Zero had found attractive in Jelena Howard during their short tryst. He still even grudgingly respected her for it no matter how much the bitch pissed him off.

It would have been no hassle to say yes to this woman now and enjoy a few hours in bed together. They could have a great time and it would give Zero the chance to immerse himself in someone without delving into the messiness of emotion. He would have too… except everything was still a bit too raw and everything about her was wrong. Her eyes were the wrong color, too blue with not enough green or brown; her curves were too soft, missing the hard planes of muscle; her features were too feminine, lacking the angular definition beneath the smooth skin.

This woman was not Jude and that made all the difference.

“No,” Zero said plainly, wondering when it became so difficult to separate his head and his damn heart. He removed her hand once more and glanced at the bartender impatiently, even though she seemed to be a bit too occupied with other demanding customers to bother with him. He felt a twinge of annoyance at being blatantly ignored in favor of the likes of Terrance Wall and Derek Roman.

“I really think you should reconsider—” the woman tried again determinedly, and Zero felt the last shred of patience dissolve in an instant.

As far as Zero was concerned at the moment, this woman was just another obstacle trying to keep him from his ultimate goal of drinking himself to oblivion. He settled a glare on her and lifted an eyebrow, not bothering to breath out another word to dissuade her. He was not one to usually threaten women, even without words, but he could be intimidating when he wanted to be. He warned her with his eyes to stop pushing the issue and thankfully that seemed to get the point across nicely.

The woman swallowed thickly, grabbed her purse and then finally left.

“Well,” a voice cut in abruptly from behind, a hint of reproach signing through. “Someone is in a cranky mood.”

Zero barely had time to look before a blonde dancer slid gracefully into the vacant seat. He was tempted to tell her to leave, but unlike the previous occupant, this one seemed more intent on getting another drink as well rather that to sit there and stubbornly hit on him. He turned his eyes away from her, deciding to ignore the comment, and stared down at the shiny countertop and the row of empty shot glasses.

“Considering you all just won another game, I would think you would be celebrating with the others,” she continued casually, the draw to her voice emphasizing the judgement in it. “That girl would have climbed you like a tree, and if you ask me, you look like you could use a good climbing.”

Zero snorted at the euphemism. “Not in the mood to celebrate,” he said, scowling when she clicked her fingers and one of the male staff members came over straight away.

“I’ll take another one of these, sweet cheeks,” she said, leaning over the counter and giving the guy a peek of her ample cleavage. “And another one of whatever grumpy here is having. He looks close to throttling someone if he doesn’t get more liquor in him soon.”

“Right away Miss Hart,” he guy stuttered, hurrying to complete the order.

“Grumpy?” Zero repeated lowly and the blonde just tilted her head to give him an astute look. “I happen to be in a great mood.”

The woman laughed loudly at the flat words. “Of course you are! Just like I’m as pure as virgin snow,” she replied, lips quirked up. “Kyle Hart. I don’t think we have ever been formally introduced before.”

“Zero,” he offered somewhat unnecessarily. Even if they had never met before he had been here for months now and his name was currently plastered on every banner and billboard around the arena. She seemed shrewd enough to pay attention. “Lesbian and sex tape girl, right?”

Kyle seemed to brighten, eyebrows lifting eagerly. “You watched it? I crashed a couple servers with that video, you know?”

Zero noted the fact that the woman had avoided commenting on her sexuality. He spotted the ring on her wedding figure though, assuring him that he was correct in his assessment. They were interrupted by the bartender returning. The man slid a fresh drink toward Kyle, a phone number and a name scrawled on the napkin it was sitting on that went completely ignored by the blonde dancer. The guy gave Kyle a pitiful look though finally managed to pour Zero another shot before reluctantly walking away to help some other patrons.

“Just what I needed,” she said in approval, sipping at the sweet concoction.

Zero curled his fingers around the shot and threw it back, licking the remnants from his lips and gesturing for yet another before adding it the row of glasses. He was developing quite the collection of them. He idly wondered if he should stop. He considered it—his thoughts were still clear enough and he had practice tomorrow. He probably didn’t need the hangover on top of everything else—but then the next round was already being poured in front of him and he swallowed that one down just as quickly.

Kyle shook her head, watching the display with wide eyes. “We really need to get you laid.” She turned in her seat and gazed out into the room, seemingly searching for prospects among the crowd. “You are way too hot to be this miserable…”

“No.”

“Well, why not?”

Zero ignored the pouting, trying to catch the eye of the bartender again.

“Fine then,” Kyle huffed and crossed her arms, eyebrows raised and pouty lips pursed together. “You do realize that everyone is limited to five shots per hour, right?” She gestured to the row of glasses and shrugged casually. “It’s policy for the Playground. They’re not going to give you another one.”

Zero had never exceeded more than one or two here before today, so it had never been an issue in the past. He ran his tongue over his teeth. His phone vibrated in his pocket before he could decide what to do next. He extracted it and stared at the slightly blurry screen—perhaps he was more intoxicated than he thought. He pinched the bridge of his nose and unlocked the screen, squinting at the notification. His stomach rolled when he realized it was an email receipt for a limousine service and a hotel reservation confirmation.

It seemed like Lucas was taking the advice to heart.

Zero placed the phone down on the countertop, surprised to see his hand shaking. He had brought it on himself, he decided. He had made the offer because Jude deserved to be treated to extravagant things; he deserved to have someone put thought and effort in to pleasing him—Jude was not an afterthought. Zero hadn’t been thinking about what it would feel like though, to not be the one doing those things for him. How had it gotten to the point where someone else’s happiness took precedence over his own?

He should have stayed in Ohio. He never would have come to rely on Jude so much had he not accepted the deal. He never would have fallen in love with him. He was better off not ever knowing Jude, because if this is what love was, Zero was glad he avoided it for so long. Love is a painful emotion, but he brought it all on himself. He had been given chances and never took them. He let Jude walk away—more than once. He waited too long and now it was too late.

Jude was not going to wait anymore and Zero could only watch it play out. He wished it only made him angry. He wished that he could feel anything other than this aching that refused to go away. He had never been good at handling feelings, especially not what he was feeling now—disappointment, regret, longing, and foolishness for not taking what was right in front of him before someone else could. He wanted it to go away.

Zero wanted everything to just disappear, especially the way the sentiments churned within him, making his jaw quiver and eyes feel suspiciously wet. He didn’t need any of it. He wanted everything gone. He reached over the countertop, down below the bar, and wrapped his long fingers around the neck of whatever bottle he came into contact with.

Beside him Kyle released a startled sound, but he barely even paused to glance at the label before twisting the top of. He then proceeded to lift the bottle by the neck until it rested against his lips. Shots were too much of a hassle for his state of mind. He needed the world to fade away and leave him to his misery. He tried to tell himself that his eyes watered because of the burn of the alcohol. He was a very good, convincing liar; he would convince himself of the lie eventually.

 “Oh boy,” Kyle breathed out.


	3. Slipping Passed the Defense

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The angst is almost over! As much as I enjoyed writing a vulnerable side to Zero, he is definitely not someone who would wallow away for too long or give up easily.

The night seemed never ending even once the heavy drinking took effect.

Although the crowd did seem to grow thin as time went on, those who remained were still seemingly immersed in the victory, growing louder and wilder, undulating to the rhythm of the music with abandon. All of it went largely unnoticed as Zero pushed through in search of somewhere quieter and private, a nearly empty bottle clutched weakly in one hand and a surprisingly insistent petite blonde following not far behind.

It was easy enough to evade Kyle, those high heels and the pressing bodies around the room making it difficult to catch up, even to someone staggering through the mass of people. He opened the first door available and slipped inside, sliding down to the floor and sprawling his legs out in front of him. He had no idea why the annoying blonde even bothered. They weren’t friends or even really acquaintances—up until a while ago they had never even interacted. He rested his head back against the door and released a sigh, deciding to ignore it, instead reveling in the numbness that overcame his limbs and his mind.

Zero was unaware of exactly how much time had passed since the initial decision to misappropriate a bottle from behind the counter; it could have been minutes, perhaps an hour or more, but keeping track of time hardly seemed important now that the world blurred at the edge of his vision. He felt oddly detached, a combination of lightheadedness and disorientation having silenced any treacherous, dangerous thoughts, and a warm tingling sensation having spread throughout his entire body.

It was all a lot more intense than what Zero had been aiming for. The earlier notifications on his phone had faded away into a distant memory though which made it all worth it.

Zero felt a quick pressure against his back as someone tried to push the door open. His body kept it from moving much and then there was an incessant knocking, following by someone attempting to speak through the dividing slab of wood. He tried to make sense of the words even as blood rushed through his ears, making it all sound distant and muted as if he was trying to hear everything from underwater.

“… Zero,” Kyle called out through the door, voice sounding on the edge of patience. “I saw you go in there. You best not be ignoring me otherwise we might have problems.” She tried to push the door open again, only to release an aggravated sound when it refused to move much more. “Fine! Be a stubborn ass, see if I care, but at least let me in so I can get my purse!”

It took a few moments for those words to register right and Zero finally glanced around to take stock of the room he was in. He felt incredulous amusement bubble up in his chest at the two long rows of coats hanging on either side of the small room, the shelves above lined with purses and clutches, each item adorned with a small tag to signify who it belonged to. His body lurched forward with one more forceful push, the resistance gone as he collapsed into quiet laughter, not really feeling humor at the situation but unable to contain himself.

 _Of course,_ Zero thought, twisting onto his back. _It just had to be this room._

Kyle stood in the open doorway, arms crossed in an unimpressed manner. Her glossy lips pursed together. She was not alone either, someone standing anxiously behind her, but Zero focused on the annoyed blonde instead. She was closer and the less blurry of the two.

“I’m in a closet,” Zero announced. “I’m literally in the damn closet.”

Kyle raised a pointed eyebrow. “I can see that.”

Zero snickered and shook his head, grabbing hold of the sleeve of a jacket for leverage in rising to his feet, laughing harder when he only succeeded in pulling the garment off the hanger and onto the floor. “No,” he said. “You don’t understand. It’s the same closet! The same one! I never left it.”

“I understand plenty,” Kyle stated, stepping over his prone form. She grabbed a small designer purse from the shelf. “Trust me. You can’t work in a strip club for as long as I have and not recognize the signs.” She glanced at the other figure still lingering by the door and waved a hand. “Care Bear, give me hand, would you? He looks like he’s all muscle.”

Zero blinked at the hand offered to him. “I never left it,” he repeated, feeling an extra set of hands grab hold of one arm while Kyle pulled as hard as she could. He made it up with a little more effort and stumbled forward into a mass of dark hair. He mumbled under his breath and leaned into the body supporting him. “I should have.”

“Oh yeah,” a slightly breathy voice said, sounding both strained and oddly familiar. “He is… really heavy. Maybe we should get one of the guys to help?” He pulled back and stared into a pair of anxious brown eyes that belonged to Ahsha Hayes.  

“You,” Zero said with accusation in his voice.

Ahsha winced. “Me.”

“I don’t like you.”

Ahsha winced again, face contorting apologetically. “Yeah,” she said. She took a step away, one hand still extended as if to catch him should he begin to sway.

Zero jolted in surprise when an arm wrapped around his waist. He glanced to the side as Kyle grasped his arm and positioned it over her shoulders. “I don’t like her,” he said directly, a sneer working its way onto his lips. “She ruined everything.”

“Tough,” Kyle said sternly, stepping over the forgotten bottle which had tipped over at some point, only a few drops falling onto the floor as the rest of the contents settled in the curve of the glass. “I like her and she was the only one I could find who would agree to help.”

“… Why?” he asked, stumbling as they moved out the door and into the hallway. Ahsha took hold of his other arm without prompting and helped hold him up, releasing him only to press the button for the elevators. “She doesn’t like me either.”

“That’s not true,” Ahsha protested weakly. “I don’t even know you.”

“You knew enough,” Zero muttered darkly, stomach lurching when the elevator began to descend. “I lost sponsors… everything…”

Ahsha was the cause of so many problems last season. He may not have been the real target—and really, who could blame the girl for targeting Jelena?—but because of the stunt, his entire reputation had been shredded to hell. Her meddling had lost him every single sponsorship and endorsement deal he ever earned. He paused as a sudden thought occurred to him. He had been so upset by all that chaos, which was what prompted Jude to kiss him the first time… she was indirectly responsible for what he was feeling now.

Zero glared sullenly at the side of her head and allowed the two to essentially march him down into the parking garage. His eyes took a few moments to adjust to the dim lighting and he frowned when fingers suddenly dipped into the pocket of his jeans. He reached for his keys when he heard them clink together, but Kyle was steadier on her feet and surprisingly tall in heels. She evaded with ease and clicked her tongue.

“You can barely stand on your own,” she said. “What makes you think you’re driving?”

Zero gestured to the vehicle. “My car,” he managed to say, but the blonde was already unlocking the doors with an eager expression. He stubbornly refused to budge when the two tried to coerce him into the backseat. He frowned at her. “You drank too.”

Kyle gave a tinkling laugh. “Those?” she asked, brushing it off easily. “Do you know how hard it would be to work the room if I actually drank? I got those for show. Men are much looser with their tongues and wallets when they think you’re tipsy too. You, on the other hand...”

It took a bit more convincing, but eventually Zero found himself sitting in the backseat of his own car, eyes narrowed at the way Kyle seemed to fondle the tan interior before putting the key into the ignition. He sighed in resignation and pressed his face to the cool class as the car roared to life, eyes falling shut as the blonde pulled the vehicle out of the space and onto the streets, flashes of streetlights burning through his eyelids.

A soft murmuring interrupted before Zero could actually fall asleep, the physically and emotionally exhausting night finally seeming to catch up. He heard the two women arguing about something, trying to keep their voices quiet, though not quite succeeding. He didn’t bother to open his eyes as he listened shamelessly.

“Is this even the right way?”

Kyle shrugged. “How am I supposed to know? None of the players are on my list.”

“Think Zero would be able to give us directions?” Ahsha asked hopefully. She paused for a second, the sound of her moving in her seat loud in the otherwise silent car. “Never mind… it looks like he’s out.”

“Well, wake him up!”

“Should we? He looked so… sad earlier.”

Kyle scoffed. “He’ll be right as rain come morning. He’s just pining.”

“… For Jelena?” Ahsha asked in a hushed whisper.

Zero could not fault the girl for sounding so horrified by the prospect. He released a noncommittal sound in response to the suggestion, finding it difficult to form coherent words any longer, but still feeling the need to object.

That had been the last known relationship Zero had been in publicly and everyone was quite aware that Jelena had been the one to end it. She was a beautiful woman, tenacious and vicious in a way that had been fun, but losing that had not been painful at all. The end of that relationship had actually been somewhat of a relief, especially after realizing that Jelena had set him up.

“Oh good,” Kyle said. “You’re awake. Where should we drop you off?”

Zero idly wondered if he should be alarmed by the fact that Kyle obviously intended to keep his car for the night. He decided to ignore it for now, instead opting to glance out the window and determine where he was exactly. The shapes all blurred together in one massive streak of dizzying color; he blinked several times and squinted, finally spotting a familiar street just up ahead.

It was a bad idea. He was setting himself up for even more pain.

Zero hesitated only a moment longer. “Turn here,” he said hoarsely, swallowing down the nerves and ignoring the little voice inside that said it was a mistake.

It was too late to take it back now though. He quashed his reservations with some effort and instructed the blonde down the familiar roads. He was silent beyond offering directions, voice failing when the car pulled into an empty parking space outside the building.

The implications of that emptiness weighed heavily on his mind. He felt frozen in the seat while Kyle and Ahsha exited, the two women waiting for him, apparently intent on seeing him safe to the door. He climbed out stiffly and stared at the apartment complex. He supposed it made him a masochist of some sort to come here, because the lights were all off and a certain dark blue car was missing. He wanted to be wrong.

Zero moved forward resolutely and made his way to the door. He reached out with one hand and knocked on the door, a bit too gently at first, but then more insistently when there was no immediate answer.

“Jude!” he called out urgently. “Jude, open the door!”

The door remained firmly shut. There was no indication of movement inside, no lights turning on in response to the noise. He needed to be wrong.

Zero balled his hand into a fist and beat the door one last time. “Please,” he whispered, eyes squeezing shut so tightly that it hurt. “Please be home.”

It was no use though. No one was home.

Jude was probably already asleep in a nice hotel room right now.  

A gentle hand pressed against the tense muscles of his shoulder blade and Zero finally allowed the hand to drop. He never realized being right could hurt this much. He stared down at the ground and released a shuddering breath. He made no move to resist this time as the girls pulled him away and back toward the car. His met brown eyes again as Ahsha attempted to buckle the seat belt around him.

“I don’t hate you,” Zero confessed quietly, causing the girl to pause and look up in surprise. His throat constricted. “I want to. I want to…”

“… I am sorry about what I did.”

“I’m not.”

Ahsha stared uncomprehendingly.

“I was given a chance because of it,” he said, his earlier anger at her—at what she did—just gone. “I was the one who ruined everything. I wouldn’t let myself trust it or have it. I waited too long and now… now I should just walk away. Leave them be.”

It was what Jude wanted anyway. He had asked for Zero to stay away. Nothing had changed since then. Admitting to loving Jude—to loving each other—had only proven that Jude was not going to settle for someone who was only present when no one else was. He was done settling for scraps of affection from people who should give it unconditionally. Jude needed someone who could be there for him in all the ways that mattered.

Zero released a bitter laugh. “I wanted everyone to see how big Zero could be… it’s still just nothing. I’m nothing.” He shook his head, posing a question that had haunted him since childhood, voice uncomfortably vulnerable. “Why am I never enough?”

Ahsha gave him a helpless look, seemingly unable to come up with a response. She squeezed his hand and then settled into the seat beside him instead of climbing back into the front with Kyle. The blonde herself sighed heavily and stared through the rearview mirror, long fingernails tapping irritably on the steering wheel, a strangely determined expression on her face. She huffed out a breath and turned around to settle a severe look on him.

“If I listened to everyone who ever told me I was nothing,” Kyle began firmly. “I would not be in this car with any of you right now. I’m not nothing. I am a Devil Girl. I’m Kyle Hart. I am the fantasy that most men want and can never have. That means something—maybe not to everyone, but it means something to me.”

Zero pursed his lips, though did not interrupt.

“No one can make me feel like I’m not enough,” she added. “I don’t need validation from anyone else. Zero must mean something too, otherwise your face wouldn’t be staring me down from the banners every time I go into work.”

Zero pursed his lips. “I’m a valuable member of the team,” he echoed inordinately, the words coming unbidden. They stung just as much. “It doesn’t mean anything.”

Kyle narrowed her eyes. “Not to you,” she surmised. “You want something else. It’s not just about making yourself seem big anymore, not to just anyone. You want to be enough for someone specific.” She nodded her head, lips quirking into something smug and she turned back around. “That is something we can work with.”

“It is?”

Kyle grinned in the mirror. “It is. You just have to be willing to fight for Jude. Trust me, you are definitely enough for that man. He just needs to realize it first.”

The comment didn’t make much sense at first, but then Zero caught on to what she was saying. “What?” he asked in disbelief, unsure he had heard correctly.

“Jude Kinkade, right?” Kyle asked. “I assume that’s who we’re talking about.”

It was only then that Zero belatedly realized he had managed to out himself. He had not exactly been very subtle or discreet about it tonight so it was bound to happen. He thought it would feel different, to tell someone he was not actively pursuing, to tell people who could use it to hurt him. He chanced a glance at Kyle and then another at Ahsha, neither looking particularly vindictive or spiteful, and took a moment to appreciate the fact that neither of them were being assholes about it.

“Yeah,” he confirmed reluctantly. “Jude.”

“Jude is the one who kissed that guy on the court, right?” Ahsha asked, eyes widening with realization. “That… actually explains a lot.”

“Doesn’t it?” Kyle said brightly. “I thought they looked hot together, but…” Her eyes went to the mirror again. “You are definitely a better match than eyebrows is.”

Zero felt himself grin. “Yeah?”

In the morning when the inebriation faded away, Zero was certain to look back on this moment and everything else that happened tonight and panic. He was probably going to shut everyone out, and either pretend it never happened or respond violently, attacking Kyle and Ahsha for somehow slipping passed the defense when he was vulnerable, no matter what their intentions were.

For now though, it was nice to embrace the idea of having other people on his side. He wanted to believe them too. He wanted to believe he had another chance. Zero wanted to believe he could be enough.


End file.
